Nina
by LaurenMiku45
Summary: I asked myself a question. "Why is L so distant from people?". That lead to the theory, "What if something had happened that made him distant, something that hurt him?" This story got written.  Nina knows the new boy is strange. But she can't help herself
1. Meeting

It was raining the day we met, do you remember?

I'd looked out the window that morning. A beautiful morning, I'd thought, no need for an umbrella today. However, by the time I was halfway to school, the heavens had opened and I was thoroughly regretting my decision. I ran the rest of the way, my feet splashing in puddles, the water flicking up my trouser leg. I arrived at school soaked and miserable, making an inward promise never to listen to my weather instinct again, and to never become a weatherwoman. My friend, Tiffany, met me at the gate.

"Did you hear?" She asked, breathless wih excitement.

"Tiff, I just got here. What do you think?"

"There's a new boy in your tutor!"

I smiled. A new boy was a rare occurence, and something at least a little exiting. I was suddenly a little thankful for my prevailing singledom.

"Really? What's he like?" I asked her.

"Well...I don't know," she smiled ruefully, "but you will soon!"

I walked with her to our tutor rooms, chatting happily. She talked about last nights party, I listened. We got to the stairs, and went our seperate ways. I climbed down the wide flight of stairs, pondering about this new arrival. I opened the door, just a few minutes from being late, shaking off the dampness that had seeped through my clothes and into my bones. I turned to my seat, a double table where I sat alone.

And there you were.

You were just sat there, you, with your pale skin and jet black hair that looked as though you'd never brushed it, looking nervous as hell. You turned and stared at me, and I nearly gasped. Your eyes were so beautiful, the largest I'd ever seen, giant pools of such a deep green that sucked me in. I just looked at you. I never wanted to move again.

But I did, I felt my body take a few shaky steps forward, although my mind felt a million miles away. I pulled out my seat, the seat that was only inches from you. My mind did a mental sprint to catch up with the rest of me. I tried to smile nicely, and not pass out.

"Hello." A stranger said. I realised it was me talking.

"Hello." You said, not looking at me, your voice calm and slightly bored.

What now? I thought. Then you turned and looked at me properly, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Is he always this late?" You asked me.

"Um...Monday...teacher meetings and stuff...everyone's late on Mondays." I stammered. Even to myself I sounded stupid.

"Hmmmmmm." You murmured, then went back to skethching in a notepad. I pulled out my organiser, distracting myself so I wouldn't stare at the perfect boy next to me. Any homework I hadn't done? Stupid question, I'd done it all Friday. Any assignments due? Not that I didn't have with me. Any reason you kept glancing at me? Wait, you were glancing at me? I watched you out the corner of my eye. So you were, every so often glancing in my direction, a twinkle in your eyes, then you'd carry on drawing. I grinned inwardly, and pretended to study my organiser intently. Suddenly our tutor walked in, rushing through the register so we wouldn't be late. You didn't even look up. At the end of tutor, you packed up your books quickly and left, but I noticed you'd torn out a page of your sketchbook and left it on the table. My curiosity irresistable, I picked it up.

It was me, drawn in chibi form, all big eyes and head, smiling cutely. You'd caught everything, the essence of me, the way I'd done my hair, the way my eyes slant slightly downwards. It was me. In the corner you'd written, "I never got your name. L"

I grinned, clutching the paper to my chest. This guy was different.


	2. Project

"So, be my partner?"

L smiled at me. "Could you see me working with anyone else?"

I grinned inwardly. Over the past three months, L and I had become best friends. We did everything together. We didn't need anyone else. What one forgot, the other remembered. What I didn't know, he did. And he always had sweets, which he shared with me. We completed each other. Of course, he didn't know how my pulse quickened when he smiled at me like that, what flashed through my mind when he touched me in that delicate way of his, as though he was scared I would break. . .

"What about Becky? She seemed pretty keen to work with you." I made a mental note to kill Becky ASAP.

"Seriously? She's fickle, and anyway, she can't draw like you."

Another good point. L and I always got excellent marks for our projects. He wrote, I drew. That was the arrangement, and we were happy with it. It got us good grades.

"Oooh, Mr. Critical. Partners?"

"Partners."

"So, shall we meet at your house?"

"My house? We do our projects in the library."

"More space at yours, and less distractions."

This was bad. My parents were out tonight, and being with L, alone, would be the biggest distraction ever. But I had to stay calm.

"True. Tonight?" What was I saying?

"Tonight. About half five?"

"Sure." Shush brain, shush!

He smiled at me, that special, teasing smile that gave me chills.

"It's a date. See you then." And he walked off to his next lesson.

I stood there, dumbfounded. What had I done?

What had I done?


	3. Kiss

What do you wear for a date that's not a date?

That was the dilemma I was faced with. And rather surprisingly, I was having a hard time working it out. In the end, I plumped for my black ruffle skirt and black and blue cross tee. Smart, pretty and comfortable. We were working after all.

I'd just put my hair up when you knocked. I ran downstairs, slightly flustered, and opened the door. There you were, standing in the doorway in that peculiar way of yours, and my heart skipped a few beats.

"You look nice."

I hadn't expected a compliment. I flustered, trying to think what to say.

"Ummmmm...thank you. Do you want to come in?" Stupid question, of course he does.

You smiled, and walked in. We set up the laptop for research and spread out on the living room floor. Our project began to blossom. Words, sentences, pictures, growing on the page. We said little, just enjoying each others company quietly.

"When was Pasteur born? I don't remember."

I reached for the laptop, "I'll check." My hands brushed the keyboard, as you reached for the laptop too. Our hands touched.

It was just that. Your skin on mine. You were cold, yet my hands burned at your touch. My stomach did flips. The room span. I felt suddenly spaced.

I turned to you. Your eyes were glistening, shining. You kept your hand on mine, sending electricity up my arm. I was paralysed, being sucked into a vortex of you.

Gently, softly, your free hand stroked my cheek. You leaned in towards me, so slowly. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. You were downing me. It was beautiful.

And then your warm lips pressed so tenderly on mine.

It was like being hit with a large hammer. Every sense was on high, taking in your taste, the smell of you. My brain collapsed and died of an overload. My hands on your shoulders, pulling you close. I felt close to passing out. I didn't care.

You pulled away, gently. It took a minute for me to come back from the stars.

You were smiling at me, a beautiful smile full of warmth.

"I don't think we're friends anymore."

I remembered to breathe at last.

"No, definitely not."

And you pulled me in for another kiss.


	4. Legs

Blackness. The first thing I notice is the blackness. It washes over me, flowing and swirling. I don't mind it. It feels like I am in a washing machine. No colour, no real sensation, it is just dark and flowing and comforting.

The second thing I notice is the damp. It seeps in through my back, warm yet cold, and very unpleasant. I am lying on something, something hard. I try to think about it, but it hurts and makes me feel sick.

My brain slowly begins to wake up again. Where being I? Bits of my memory drift by in no particular order. I struggle to grasp them.

Cinema. We were at the cinema. Waiting outside. To get tickets. It was raining. We were laughing. There was a loud bang. Something hit me. Something hit me hard.

The blackness lurches sickeningly away and begins to recede. Colours swim nauseatingly before my eyes. Shapes, spinning, dancing.

I open my eyes.

I am lying on the pavement. It is cold and damp and red. Red?

It takes me a moment to realise I am lying in blood.

The bang. An explosion. The bin exploded. You were next to me. Are you ok? Are you alive? I try to move my legs, to sit up, but my legs won't move. I can't feel them. I try my arms. They're fine. I grip the floor and slowly, shakily hoist myself to a sitting position. The world slides to one side as my eyes struggle to focus. I can hear screaming.

I realise immediately why my legs won't work.

They're not there.

They're gone, just below the knee. It looks like something out a horror movie. I stare in fascinated horror. A clean cut, straight through. My blood gushes out and marbles the pavement.

I turned my head. You're slumped on the side of the road. You don't look hurt. At least, none of you is missing. I need to get to you, to help you. You need me.

I watch as you groan and sit up slowly. I reach for you, call your name, my arm gives out, I fall to the floor.

"Oh my God!" Your voice, so sweet. You're next to me now. Everything is fine.

"Oh my God! Nina, stay with me, stay with me!" I can hear the panic in your voice. I have to tell you I'm ok, now you're here I'm ok.

"I'm...fine..." the words are hesitant, as though they do not want to come into this horror.

"Nina, your legs. Oh God, your legs." Your voice is a hoarse whisper. You have tears running down your cheeks. Your covered in blood, my blood. You're beautiful. My crimson rose.

You tear off your shirt, tear it in two and wrap it around the bloodied stumps of my legs. Your tears fall onto them. We know. We know already.

I'm fading. I can feel a deep, numbing, wonderful cold seeping up my legs. I want this last moment to be ours, I want you to keep it, along with my heart.

You leave my legs, you can do no more for me. You stare at my bloodied face and I smile at you. With my last strength, I lift my arm and grab your shoulder, pull you down to me. These words are for you L. For you. My last gift. The coldness spreads.

I smile weakly at you. You're crying, dirty, and so, so beautiful. An angel.

"Be...L... be...amazing." My dying whisper, my final wish. For you to be happy.

"Oh Nina..." you put your tear-stained face to mine and kiss me, gently, tenderly. The coldness reaches its final destination, my heart. Take it L. It's yours to keep.

You hold me, the boy with the broken eyes holding the broken girl.

And with that final kiss, like water through your fingers, I slip away.


End file.
